Excerpt

And Then?
Her: Can I bring something up? Me: Just not about my work. Her: It’s my work. We are in bed and I turn to her. What happened?
By [Bad] Ideas for Writers (& Life)3 years ago in Fiction
Caged Animals (Semi-Daily Flash Fiction #2)
“Alright, come on, I told you I wanted to be out of here by nine, didn’t I? I – HEY! I said be careful with that!” Even though she’d told me beforehand that she trusted the U-Haul guys about as much as she trusted pop-up blockers, my mom was still just as smiley with them as she was with her clients. But she finally drew the line when the truck for our fragiles arrived. I was tucked into the car by then, but even with all the windows rolled up I could hear everything.
By Em E. Lee3 years ago in Fiction
Hunting the Hallowed Chrysalis
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. I had just landed back into human form after an exhausting galactic battle. All I wanted to do was enjoy the mundane existence of a simple and quiet life.
By SLH3 years ago in Fiction
The Anomalous Keys
Emaline Briggsmere wanted it to be 2pm, very badly. She had been looking forward to 2pm for three weeks now and it still hadn’t arrived. When 2pm doesn’t arrive for that long, there is often something that has gone wrong, which has happened before it hasn’t arrived. Or so to speak.
By Rachael Curry3 years ago in Fiction
The Phantom of Stage 16: Prologue
His face was by all rights his fortune. Beginning in 1920, Erik Stevenson was the king of silent movies. When the striking 20-year-old first arrived in Hollywood in 1919, he was said to look very much like famous stage and screen star John Barrymore. However, within just a year of his screen debut, his own piercing eyes and dramatic profile became the very logo of Hollywood. The lines around the theater for his films were spectacular, and he could hardly make films quickly enough to please his audience. Many studios tried desperately to get his contract, but he remained forever loyal to the studio that gave him his start.
By Rebekah Brannan3 years ago in Fiction
The Top Hat
Sophie was sure she would hear from the anonymous letter writer again. She decided not to tell anyone about the letters for the time being.
By Earl Keller3 years ago in Fiction
Maturing in Joyce's "Araby"
In James Joyce’s Araby, the readers are introduced to the boy, a young main character who is enamored with his friend Mangan’s older sister. From the beginning of the story, the boy takes every available opportunity to glance at his crush- from her calling her brother to go home and the little moments when she passes by him in the streets.
By Haiibara3 years ago in Fiction
Little Red-Cap
Once upon a time there was a dear little girl who was loved by every one who looked at her, but most of all by her
By Frederick L Hester3 years ago in Fiction
The Myths
There was no letter for Sophie the next morning. All through the interminable day at school she was bored stiff. She took care to be extra nice to Joanna during the breaks. On the way home they talked about going camping as soon as the woods were dry enough.
By Earl Keller3 years ago in Fiction
The Natural Philosophers
When her mother got home from work that afternoon Sophie was sitting in the glider, pondering the possible connection between the philosophy course and Hilde Moller Knag, who would not be getting a birthday card from her father.
By Earl Keller3 years ago in Fiction
The Singing Bone
In a certain country there was once great lamentation over a wild boar that laid waste the farmer's fields, killed the cattle,
By Frederick L Hester3 years ago in Fiction
Robinson Crusoe
September 30, 　1659 . - I, poor miserable Robinson Crusoe, being shipwrecked during a dreadful storm in the offing, came on shore on this dismal, unfortunate island, which I called "The Island of Despair"; all the rest of the ship's company being drowned, and myself almost dead.
By Manuel Nelson3 years ago in Fiction